


Keep Me In Mind

by KatieNoctem



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Pre-The Final Problem, Reader Insert, or at least written before the episode aired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 14:53:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9389906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieNoctem/pseuds/KatieNoctem
Summary: How bout a oneshot where mycroft and the reader are dating and they’ve known each other since they were kids and eurus doesn’t like her? Please? – Anonymous*This was written prior to the airing of The Final Problem*





	

You were sixteen and home from school for the holidays, while the familial obligations didn’t excite you there was one thing, or rather one person, you were more than happy to see. Mycroft Holmes had written to you on an almost weekly basis since you’d been away. He’d been one of the few people who had understood you, and one of a limited number you could tolerate. You had better social skills than he did sure (it wasn’t exactly hard), but you were more interested in reading than the drinking and fashion magazines your peers seemed to spend all their time with these days. Mycroft on the other hand understood you, even his younger brother Sherlock provided better company than the girls you’d been stuck in the boarding school with for the past several months. You had barely managed to unpack your things into your room before you were almost sprinting for the door.  
“Y/N, where are you off to? We only just got you home and already you’re out of the door?”  
You paused and turned to face your mother, wincing inwardly at the way her arms were folded across her chest. You’d be getting an earful later by the looks of it.  
“I won’t be too long mother, I just want to tell Mycroft I’m back.” You answered, already turning the handle on the door. “I’ll be back in plenty of time for tea, and you know I’m home all summer. You’ll see me, promise.”  
“Be careful!” She called after you as you dashed out the door and down the road, almost sprinting to the front door of the Holmes residence.  
Before you even had a chance to knock you heard Sherlock calling his brother’s name and the familiar sound of footsteps in the hall. When the door opened it was all you could do not to fling yourself at the boy who stood there, lips curved ever so slightly at the corners in a smile.  
“You’re back from boarding school I take it?” He asked, the smile growing ever so slightly.  
“Can’t fool a genius hmm?” You grinned, eyes sparkling.  
“Hardly genius, any idiot with eyes could have worked that one out.” Sherlock’s voice echoed from down the hallway. This time you laughed, the first genuine laugh in a while.  
Mrs Holmes appeared in the hallway behind her son and smiled warmly at you. “Y/N, it’s nice to see you back. How is school?”  
You smiled back.  "Same as always. Do you mind if Mycroft comes out with me for a bit?”  
She shook her head. “Not at all dear. Have him back for tea.”  
You nodded, grabbing Mycroft’s hand and tugging him out of the door. Between your excitement to have you best friend back and his grumbling neither of you noticed the girl scowling at you from the stairs.

You finally stopped leading Mycroft along when you reached the riverbanks you’d grown up playing along. You were sure Sherlock still came down here to play pirate sometimes, he’d been so excited about it before. The pair of you sat side by side on one of the large stones lining the bank, watching the water as it ran past.   
“How was school, really?” Mycroft asked.  
You groaned and leant against his shoulder. “Dull. There aren’t many people I can talk properly too. They all care too much about fashion and whether the boys’ school is playing football on their back fields. I’m starved for intelligent conversation.”  
He chuckled.  "So you have no interest in the boys playing football then?“ His tone was teasing, but there was a tense edge behind the words.  
"I never said no interest.” You shook your head. “But a passing glance isn’t going to keep me entertained for long. If you hadn’t been writing to me I might have gone mad.”  
“You have friends there.”  
“But you’re my best friend. I missed you terribly you know?” You shifted slightly to look at him, frowning. “No one could ever replace you Mycroft Holmes. Not in all the schools in England.”  
The corners of his mouth twitched slightly. “Flattery? I expected better for you."   
"Just truth.” You stared at him for a moment, chewing your bottom lip. The butterflies that had started to grow in your stomach every time he wrote to you were fully alive now and fluttering madly. Slowly you leant forwards until your lips pressed against his. Mycroft froze and you started to panic, pulling away until a hand against your cheek stopped you. He pressed back into the kiss and you brought your arms up around his neck.  
You were both late for dinner.

 

\--

 

You were eighteen and leaving for university, standing outside the Holmes residence waiting to say goodbye to your best friend. On the other side of the door you could hear the sounds of an argument.   
“You should be glad you’re getting rid of her. She’s an idiot, and she’s not even pretty.” The girl’s voice snapped.  "I don’t know why you even put up with her.“  
"She’s perfectly intelligent.” That was Sherlock.   
“I don’t need you to defend her brother mine. She’s my best friend Eurus, will you please just accept that? It’s been years. Over a decade in fact.” Mycroft snapped back.  
There was a rustling of movement and you heard feet start up the stairs. “If you’re lucky she’ll get killed out there.”  
“EURUS!”  
Swallowing hard you went to turn away from the door. Maybe you’d just write to Mycroft instead, tell him everything you wanted to tell him in person and more. Just as you’d turned and went to step off the porch the door creaked behind you.  
“Y/N?”  
You stopped and turned to see Mycroft standing in the doorway frowning. You smiled weakly at him, ignoring the tears that pricked your eyes.  
“You’re not as quiet as you think you are.” He gave you a tight smile. “I’m sorry about…”  
“Eurus has always hated me.” You shrugged. “Didn’t think she wanted me dead, but there you go. I just came to say goodbye before I left.”  
He pushed the door closed behind him and stepped out into the garden with you. The muscles in his face twitched slightly and you stayed quiet, knowing he was preparing to speak.  
“I…” He paused and took a deep breath. “I’m not good with these things. Outbursts of emotion are generally beyond me.” His hands worried at the fabric in his pockets. “But you have been my friend for more years than I care to admit and I will miss you. You’ll do great things Y/N.”  
You grinned, launching forwards and wrapping your arms around his neck despite his muffled noise of protest. “Oh Mycroft I think that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard you say.” Your voice cracked as tears started to trace their way down your cheeks. “I’m going to miss you so much. Can I still write to you?”  
“Of course. How else am I meant to tolerate being surrounded by idiots?” There was a barely perceptible tremor in his voice which meant more to you than anything else. Mycroft Holmes was a man of thought, he didn’t show emotion easily. So this tiny lapse was more than you could ever hope for. You thought about telling him how you really felt but it didn’t seem right in the moment.   
Once you let go of each other and he had gone back in the house you really started to cry.

  


\--

 

You were in your late twenties, freshly moved to London with a doctorate and high hopes. You’d been offered a position liaising with the police in their criminal investigations. It was a good use of your skills and great experience for you. You’d only been on the job a couple of months when it happened. You rolled up to a crime scene to find a large black car sat outside the tape, the police were crowded around the door and a red headed man stepped out. Your breath hitched in your throat and you scolded yourself for being foolish enough to think of him. The letters had petered out in your final year, he’d got a new job that stole all of his time. Mycroft Holmes had long forgotten about you you told yourself. But when he spoke your heart almost stopped, there was a voice you would know anywhere.   
“Gentlemen this case needs to be kept closely under wraps. The identity of your victim is of a somewhat sensitive nature.”  
You faltered in your steps, sending a piece of stone skidding across the concrete of the abandoned building site. The sound made everyone turn and you felt tears springing to your eyes as the light shone across the man’s face.  
“Mycroft.” It was barely a whisper.   
Mycroft frowned, stepping away from the car and starting to walk towards you. It took all of your restraint not to run at him.  
“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Behind him the police force on scene had stopped their staring at started muttering between themselves. You’d get an earful later.   
You held up your bag. “I work here Mycroft. I would have told you but…” You let it hang in the air.  
“I stopped writing. The government is a little busy.” The tone was dry. “You still could have written.”  
“The lack of response gave me the impression you didn’t want me to continue to do so. You can see how that might happen.” You snarked back. “Now I believe I have work to do.”  
He gave you the smallest of smiles and gestured towards the crime scene. You smiled back and stepped forwards.   
“Maybe when you’re done here we could go out to dinner? For old times’ sake.”  
You smiled up at him more broadly. “I’d love to.”  
Three hours at a crime scene, a shower and a change of clothes later you slid into the back of a large black car beside your childhood friend. You never made it home.

  


\--

 

It was years later now. Some of them were rough years, especially the early ones. Having you launched back into his life so suddenly had disrupted the order and control he relied so heavily on. Neither of you really knew where you stood with each other at first after so many years apart, though the feelings were evidently still there bubbling under the service. It had taken almost a year for the two of you to finally admit your feelings for each other. Mycroft found it hardest, naturally, and in that year the Detective Inspector you had been working under, one Gregory Lestrade, had grown more attached to you. Once you and Mycroft had finally decided where you stood his full irritation with the DI’s interest in you surfaced. At first he tried to get you moved to a position within the government where he could keep an eye on you, a tactic you strongly resisted and was the igniting point of several massive rows between the two of you. He finally settled the issue by appearing at Scotland Yard one day, initially baffling the force and finally completely shocking them when he found you and kissed you. In front of witnesses. It may have only been a chaste kiss as he led you out of the building, but it was more affection than anyone in living memory had seen him show another individual. Several officers in the force lost bets that Mycroft Holmes was gay, with a great number more losing on the grounds that they thought he couldn’t feel any emotion, especially affection. Then Sherlock started consulting with the force on a regular basis, causing even more commotion when he finally recognised you, and several very tense “meetings” over coffee as he grilled (and subsequently mocked) his brother on your relationship and quite how long it had taken the two of you to finally cement things after all the ‘experimenting’ you had done as teenagers.

  


\--

 

You were in your thirties now. Things had been settled for a while, or at least as settled as they ever got when you were involved with the Holmes family and as a consequence the entire British government. Working for Scotland Yard seemed almost peaceful in comparison some days. The two of you were out for lunch, in a nice little upscale restaurant in Central London.  
“I was talking to your mother the other day.” You mused, lifting a cup of tea to your lips.   
Mycroft arched an eyebrow. “And what did mother dearest want precisely?”  
“She wants to know when we’re going to get married and give her some grandchildren-” Mycroft blanched slightly “-because, and I quote, 'that other son of mine won’t be doing so any time soon’. She didn’t mention…” You trailed off and Mycroft nodded, putting his cup down.  
“I know. Dare I ask what you said?” He mused.  
“Well, I tried to tell her that children weren’t exactly my forte, but I don’t think she’s having any of it.” You shook your head. “She wants you to call her more often.”  
Opposite you Mycroft’s head dipped a little. Though he hated to admit it he cared for his mother a lot, and that his lack of contact upset her did pain him a little. You hummed, glancing around at the restaurant and the waiters that hovered anxiously nearby.  
“Perhaps we should take this back home. I think they want this table free and we have been here over an hour.” You made the universal motion for 'bill please’ in the direction of the nearest member of staff to seal the decision. “Besides, it’s been a long time since I had to you myself for a whole evening.”  
As you split the bill, despite several protestations from the man opposite, and left the building, neither of you noticed the familiar woman sat in the back, scribbling angrily onto a napkin.  
“She’s not good enough for him.”


End file.
